Not a Simulation
by MichelleS-9
Summary: Prequel to my previous story "A Shoot Mission". Set during Season 5. What if Root was able to get to Shaw for a daring rescue attempt during her Samaritan imprisonment? Rated M. Shoot Pairing


Not a Simulation

Pairing: Shoot

Rating: M

Summary: Prequel to my previous story "A Shoot Mission". Set during Season 5. What if Root was able to get to Shaw for a daring rescue attempt during her Samaritan imprisonment?

* * *

The computer in front of Harold lit up. He stared in shock for several seconds. "Miss Groves!" he yelled finally, when he'd processed what he was seeing.

"What is it, Harry?" Root asked, strolling into the subway car. She was biting an apple, and when she saw what made Harold call out for her, she dropped it.

This was it. After 9 months of searching, the machine finally had a viable location for Shaw. It was one errant camera shot from a security feed the machine had recently gotten access to, deep in what they thought might be a satellite Samaritan location. It was a passing shot, one blurred image of a woman with long dark hair, strapped into a wheelchair. The Machine rated the likeliness of it actually being Sameen Shaw at 78.6 percent. That was good enough for Root.

"I'm going. Now." She whirled around, ignoring Harold's protests. She had changed into more durable clothes, leftover from her months underground, and grabbed every gun she could find. Finch was limping over to her as she hastened to the stairs.

"Ms. Groves," he called after her. "You can't do this alone. We need to get John, and maybe Fusco and make a plan. We can't just run in there without a plan."

"I can't leave her in there one more second than necessary. It's Shaw, Harold." Root nearly shrieked at him.

"I know, and we will get her. But with the Machine still recuperating and not operating at her best capacity, I fear that an unplanned rescue would only end up with the rest of us joining Miss Shaw in captivity."

Root paused, looking at him. He wasn't wrong, but she was struggling to let her more rational mind take the forefront over her heart.

"Get John. I'm going in 12 hours, with or without help."

The Machine crackled to life in her ear, and she cocked her head to one side, listening.

"She's working on getting us more eyes inside, Harold. But, being Samaritan's base, the security is tight and more highly monitored."

"I've no doubt she'll give it her immediate attention. Meanwhile, Mr. Reese can do some reconnaissance from the outside, and try to determine Samaritan's assets in the area." He said reasonably.

"I'll join him," Root said immediately. The Machine was instantly in her ear, spouting probabilities about her likeliness to remain outside the compound once she was in visual range. The odds she would be cautious were not high.

"Point taken," She muttered. "I'll stay here, for now."

John and Lionel reported in from their stakeout periodically. Root got more and more anxious with every passing minute, pacing back and forth, and repeatedly checking over Finch's shoulder to see his screen.

"Ms. Groves," he said, after the 6th time. "Kindly find some other means of occupying yourself."

"We need to move," she muttered. "Who knows what they could be doing to Sameen?" The machine whirred in her ear, and she perked up. "John," she said, touching her ear-piece. "She's ready. I'll meet you at the east side, one block down."

The instructions the Machine gave to Root were quickly relayed to Reese and Fusco when she met them less than an hour later. There was a lot that could go wrong, but Root was determined to try, no matter the risk to herself. As if knowing this would be Root's default attitude, the Machine's plan put John and Lionel in much less danger comparatively speaking, than Root herself. They parted to execute their individual assignments, and within a few minutes, Root was bypassing the security feed on the East side, clearing a path for her to walk in.

The key was for her to act like she belonged. She walked directly past three operatives, nodding politely to them, before she was stopped by a fourth. He was dispatched quickly with one shot to the kneecap, and left unconscious in a nearby janitor's closet. Ducking through one more corridor, and taking a set of back stairs, the Machine informed her that Sameen's cell was up ahead. There were two guards on the doors, and Root didn't wait for them to question her, just took two precise shots and they were down, clutching their legs and groaning. She paused long enough to disarm them, and with two thumps from their own guns, they were no longer conscious.

A key card hanging from the lapel of the guard on the right opened the door with no finagling required on her part. And then there was just a few feet separating her from her ultimate goal.

Shaw was lying motionless on a hospital bed, a white visor covering her eyes. As Root got closer, Shaw still didn't move to defend herself, and Root wondered if she was drugged. She was close enough to touch now, and Root rested her hand on Shaw's arm, while whispering "Sameen" in what she hoped was a soothing voice.

When Shaw still did not stir, Root decided to remove the visor. The effect was instantaneous. Shaw's hands were on her wrists, and there was fury in her eyes. Until she registered what she was seeing.

"Root?" She asked, incredulously.

"Yes, sweetie, I'm here. Let's get you out of here before they catch us."

"How'd you find me?" Shaw asked, dazed.

"Played the longest game of 'Where's Waldo' ever, but She found you in the end." Root joked tersely.

"John? Finch?" Shaw asked quickly.

"Everyone is fine now, but they won't be for long if we don't get a move on. Come on." She helped Shaw to her feet, but she was so shaky that Root wondered how long they'd kept her sedated on that bed. She found her footing, and the pair made their way out to the hall, and down the same stairs Root had come up. They turned a corner, checking for operatives when Root heard the last voice she was expecting.

"Miss Groves," Greer's voice, steady and controlled. Root stopped in her tracks, but didn't give him the satisfaction of whirling around. Instead she addressed him with her back still facing him.

"Greer. I've been wondering when you'd turn up," She finally turned, slowly, to face him, gun raised, keeping her body in front of Shaw's. "It's been too long. We should catch up."

"Absolutely. How have you been? Sameen and I have had a lovely time together in your absence."

"I'm guessing it was more fun for you than for her."

"On the contrary. We took some trips, saw some scenery, took care of some business. Sameen had a wonderful time. Very relaxing," he smiled.

"Then I'm sure she's just itching to get back to work with us," Root shot back, trying and failing to keep her voice level.

"Shall we, if you prefer," Greer intoned. "Discuss Ms. Shaw by the numbers? Since you obviously are not interested in my observations?"

Root kept the gun trained on him, not allowing her gaze to slip from him, and betraying no emotion, although she could feel Sameen seething with anger behind her.

"In 6,742 simulations, Samaritan got her to kill John Reese 5,573 times. Harold Finch? 4,755. Former... Numbers, as you call them? Hundreds. Associates from her past, family members... we dredged them all up from her subconscious, and, with minimal tweaking of the situation, she would kill anyone. Except one. Except you. That turned out to the key."

Root didn't speak. She knew instinctively that given half a chance, he would keep going, giving Her a chance to get them out of this unscathed. She just had to buy some time, and hope for an opening.

"Ms. Shaw's own reactions to the simulations, once we focused them on you, turned out to be quite enlightening. Here," he said jovially, "Let me show you."

A screen on the wall behind him came to life, and Root's own face came into view. It was disorienting, to say the least, when Root figured out that she was seeing from Shaw's perspective. Greer let it play a while, Root's own voice filtering through the speakers. Her usual flirting banter. Shaw's usual flat non-response. Then, suddenly, they were kissing. Against the wall in an unfamiliar apartment. The clip cut out.

"She gets very... amorous... after that. 6,521 different simulations, and every time, without fail, she finds her way into your bed."

"Flattering," Root says finally, after he was silent for a few moments. "What happened in the other 200 and change?"

"We didn't include you in those simulations."

Root just smiled, trying to hide her elation.

"Flattering indeed." He continued, but Root cut him off.

"Luckily, she's got the real thing now, and won't have to make due with a cheap Samaritan imitation."

"Miss Groves, do you really expect us to just let you walk out of here? When we have you so neatly in our grasp?"

The Machine squealed in her ear, relaying instruction, and Root smiled at Greer.

"As lovely as that sounds, I have a better offer. Let's go, Sameen." She turned on her heel, urging the woman on ahead of her. The unmistakable sound of Greer raising his gun made Shaw stop short, reaching protectively around Root. But Root didn't let her stop, pushing her forward, even as the wall behind Greer exploded in a shower of plaster and debris. He fell forward, pulling the trigger. The shot went wide, hitting the wall to Shaw's left.

"We have to go sweetie, or we're not getting out of here," Root warned her, taking her hand and pulling her along at a jog. In the next corridor, they nearly collided with Fusco, who barreled out of a door to the right.

"Fruit Loops, good, you got her. We gotta go. Good to see you, Shaw." He motioned them down the hall the way he'd come and they put on an extra burst of speed. The machine squealed in her ear, and she stopped short.

"Wait," Root said, turning to look at a locked door to their right. "She wants us to get something else from here."

Fusco reached over and handed her a keycard. "I swiped this from a guard I shot. Let's hope it works."

Root smiled at him, and ran it. The light turned green, and she opened the door, training her gun ahead in the dark room. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but a bruised and beaten woman tied to a chair wouldn't have been her first guess.

"Control." Shaw said, looking the woman over. "The Machine wants us to bring her? Why?"

"I'm not sure, but I guess we're doing a double duty on rescuing damsels today."

Shaw glared at her, but helped her release the barely conscious woman. They had to support her heavily as they made their way out, and she hadn't spoken a word.

The Machine must have disabled the rest of the security system, Root thought, because they waltzed right through door after door without use of the key card or code locks throughout the building. Twice they encountered Samaritan operatives, and Fusco shot them in the legs without hesitation. Root was suitably impressed.

Shaw was starting to tire, these many months locked up left her muscles unused to the physical side of their usual activities. Root noticed, and called to Fusco.

"Take her," she instructed, letting Lionel take the wounded woman, so she could keep Sameen moving. She wrapped her arm around Shaw, supporting as much of her weight as she could while still pointing her gun.

"How much further?" Root asked aloud, waiting for an answer from Fusco or the Machine, either one would do.

"Just up ahead," Lionel called back. "Almost there." They burst through on last set of double doors and they were outside, blinking in the harsh sunlight. Shaw hissed in displeasure and shielded her eyes with the arm that wasn't around Root's shoulders.

"Here!" came a loud yell. The turned to see John standing next to a white van, helping move Control into the back, and Lionel scooped Shaw up when she failed to move.

"No time," he said, by way of apology. He practically threw her into the van, and Root was getting in behind them. John drove off before the door had even closed.

"Shaw. Nice of you to join us," He said with a small smile, looking at her in the rear view mirror.

"Well, I had some free time. Thought we could get the band back together," she joked back in her flat monotone.

"I see you picked up a spare."

"A woman can't resist a two-for-one special," Root said her her low mysterious tone. The one that never failed to stir up something in Shaw's chest.

They went silent after that, John keeping his eyes on the road, Fusco watching behind them for any possible tails, and Root listening to the Machine's direction and relaying it to John. She kept one hand on Shaw's arm, not wanting to lose that contact until she had to.

They didn't relax until they were directed to a parking garage on the far side of the city. The Machine told Root to take them up the elevator to the 5th floor, where they found a fully equipped apartment waiting for them.

"It's a new safe house," Root informed them. "Samaritan doesn't know about this one. This is as good as it's going to get for now. She has a secondary location in mind for Control." They had left the unconscious woman in the van, tied up in case she woke up.

"It's a step up," Shaw said, walking to the kitchen. Root's eyes trailed her as she crossed to the fridge, pulling it open to look inside. Her face lit up when she reached in and came out with a brown bottle. "I haven't had a beer in months. Your god knows her stuff." Without looking at the others, she made her way to the couch and put her feet on the coffee table.

Root and Reese exchanged a glance. This wasn't exactly how they expected this homecoming to go.

"Sameen, are you alright?" Root asked tentatively. "Wait, I mean, not alright, but ok?"

Shaw looked over at them. "Peachy. I just don't want to get too attached to this feeling of freedom. Although I have to admit, the simulations are getting more realistic. I can really taste the beer."

"Sweetie, this isn't a simulation," Root explained seriously. She joined Shaw on the couch, reaching a hand out to rest on her thigh. "This is real."

Shaw smiled, in a tired, defeated sort of way. "That's what you always say."

Fusco cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, anyway, I'm glad you're back, and I'm gonna get going before this gets weirder."

"Wait," Shaw said as Fusco went for the door. "You've never been in my simulations before."

"I'm crushed," he shot back. "You weren't dreaming of me, nutso?"

"Not dreaming. Simulations. Samaritan's. It picks the players. And it never put you in there. Why?"

"Because it doesn't know about Fusco." John said simply.

"What are you nutjobs talking about? Simulations? Samaritans?" Fusco asked, confused.

"You don't need to know, Lionel," Root shrugged. "Thanks for your help."

"Always a pleasure to reunite the unholy trinity." He shook his head and left the apartment, still grumbling.

"This isn't a simulation," Shaw whispered. She couldn't wrap her head around it. The idea that she was really free from Greer's grasp was too much to process.

"It's ok sweetie. We're here, and you're safe. Well, safer," she amended. Shaw narrowed her eyes. Root grinned. "There's still an evil ASI trying to kill us, so safe isn't the right word."

John looked between them. He decided his presence wasn't needed at that moment. "I have to get back to our other rescuee. And work. Can't let Fusco have all the fun. I'll bring breakfast tomorrow. We can catch up then. It's good to have you back." He gave her a rare smile and turned to the door. "Oh," he turned back for a moment. "I'll bring Bear to keep you company." Shaw returned his look with a nod.

"Thanks."

He left without another word, confident that she was in good hands with Root. He still had to follow the instructions Finch was relaying to him regarding Control.

The atmosphere changed perceptively after John's departure. Shaw was suddenly unable to look back at Root. She took a swig of her beer to calm her nerves.

"At least I know why the beer tastes so good," she mumbled. Root laughed. She seemed to understand that Shaw needed some time and space, so she left her spot on the couch and made her way into the kitchen.

"Are you hungry?" Root called over to her. "I can make us something."

"You cook?" Shaw remarked. "That's surprising."

"I hope I always surprise you," Root responded, a flirty tone to her voice. She turned her attention to the contents of the fridge, not disappointed to find a variety of ingredients for her to work with. She decided on an alfredo sauce, pulling out cream and cheese, and when she turned, she nearly dropped the items in her hand. Shaw was directly behind her, having moved so silently that Root didn't know she was there. The machine hadn't warned her either, so She must have decided that Shaw wasn't a threat.

"Guess I surprised you, this time." Shaw said, realizing that her proximity had startled the other woman. She moved to step back, not wanting to make Root uncomfortable, but Root wouldn't let her. She reached out her free hand, wrapping her long fingers around Shaw's bicep.

"It's ok," Root whispered. "Wanna help me with dinner?"

"I'm not much of a cook."

"You can be my sous chef," Root teased, rubbing against her arm with her thumb. "Grate some cheese, chop some basil. I know you're excellent with sharp objects."

Shaw nodded, looking down.

"I'm teasing, sweetie," Root said, tilting Shaw's head up. "Come help me cook."

Shaw cleared her throat. "You're better than me with hot surfaces," she reminded Root. Root cocked her head. Shaw had clearly meant it to be flirty, making Root think back to their first meeting with the iron in the hotel room, but her delivery was off. Actually, now that Root thought about it, it was probably the first time Sameen had responded to her in kind, so maybe this _was_ her flirty tone.

"Mmm, true. We both have our strengths," she purred back. "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours."

Shaw rolled her eyes. "Give me the cheese." She plucked it from Root's hand and headed to the counter.

Root smiled. They worked together in companionable silence. Root initiated light contact, seemingly innocent, just to test the waters; a shoulder brush as she mixed the sauce, leaning over Shaw to grab the pasta from the shelf, and a brush of their fingers when they both reached for the knife at the same time. Each time Shaw stiffened for a second, then relaxed, never pulling away from Root. She took it as a good sign.

When her sauce thickened, she coated their pasta, and scooped a steaming bowl up for Shaw. "Here, sweetie." Shaw took it with a low grunt and a nod, retreating to the couch and to her half finished beer. Root joined her, sitting a respectable distance away on the couch.

"You aren't going to ask me?" Shaw questioned idly, when they'd both finished their meal. Shaw had gone back for seconds, relishing the taste of something that wasn't the crap the Samaritan operatives fed her.

"I'd be lying if I said I don't have some questions," Root admitted. "But I also don't want to make you talk about anything you don't want to. We can just sit here, if that's what you want."

"If you were going to ask something, what would it be?" Sameen asked quietly. She pulled her legs up, hugging her knees, and not making eye contact.

"I might start by asking how much of what Greer said was true, and how much was Samaritan's lies, trying to throw me off my game."

"None of it was lies."

Root narrowed her eyes, disbelieving. "None?"

"None." Shaw confirmed again. She let out a huff of air.

"Thousands of simulations, and you couldn't kill little old me?" Root teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Sameen rolled her eyes. "Don't let it go to your head. I just find you less annoying than Reese and Finch."

"That does not explain the video I got to see. I mean, it was only a PG-13 clip, but I imagine it turned the corner to a solid R."

Shaw's face blushed scarlet.

"And with 6,500 and something other... how did he put it? Amorous simulations?" Root began. "There must be a treasure trove of other clips. Maybe I'll have the Machine patch in... give me a preview of some of them."

"Root." Sameen said in a low voice.

"I'll make us some popcorn, we can have a girl's night..." Root continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"Shut up, Root."

"Are you gonna make me?" Root teased idly.

Shaw didn't respond, instead, she lunged forward and joined their lips. Root responded instantly, with her own enthusiasm, kissing Shaw back like she wished she had all those months ago at the stock exchange.

There was nothing stopping them this time, no pressing missions, no heroic sacrifices needed. Just the two of them, in this very real moment.

They grappled briefly, neither of them willing to give up control. Root gave in first, allowing Shaw to push her down, prone on the couch. When Shaw tried to pull back, Root didn't let her, following her with both hands fisted in her shirt. Shaw shrugged it off impatiently, giving Root a clear view of her nearly nude torso.

Root's breath caught in her throat. Shaw's skin was a patchwork of scars. Burns, cuts, and two very memorable bullet holes. Root's fingers itched to reach out and touch, to fix and soothe them, but she knew that Sameen would not welcome the reminder of her past weakness. Not that Root saw it that way. Her endurance of the wounds only made her look more beautiful and stronger to the hacker.

Shaw didn't let her gaze linger long. She kissed Root again, more softly this time, giving her a chance to respond without the aggression that usually peppered their interactions. She let her weight settle more fully against Root, with her thigh pressed between Root's, enjoying the soft moan it earned her.

It didn't take long before they both wanted more. Shaw cracked first, pulling away to rip Root's shirt up over her head. Root's fingers were busy at her waist, trying to undo her pants when Shaw pushed them away and took them off herself. There was a flurry of activity from both of them, during which time they dropped the rest of their clothes, with only a brief pause when Root's bra hook somehow got stuck in her hair. Shaw smirked while she tugged it out, chuckling low under her breath. It was the first time Root had seen her so close to really laughing, and she enjoyed it, despite how annoyed she was at the interruption.

The situation seemed to lift some cloud that was hovering over them, easing their nerves and making the kiss that followed after seem more natural.

Shaw's hand snaked down their bodies, touching the pale skin she'd dreamed of for over a year. She relished the chance to really feel the woman below her, touching every inch of skin she could reach, finally brushing against Root's center, but then pulling back after a moment.

"Are you sure?" Shaw asked her, looking more nervous than Root had seen her in much more intense situations than they were in now. Still, she appreciated Shaw's concern.

"In 6,000 simulations did you ever ask me that?" Root asked with a raised eyebrow, touching Shaw's cheek.

Shaw hesitated. "They weren't like this. It wasn't so... nice." The hacker nodded, understanding.

"I think this is nice too, sweetie," Root whispered to her. She intertwined their fingers. "And it would be even nicer if you didn't stop. Please?" She moved their joined hands back down, encouraging Shaw to continue.

Shaw didn't hesitate again. She did, however, slow her movements down to a maddening pace, just barely pushing into Root's wet heat with the tip of her finger. The hacker whined, trying to push down and force her deeper, but Shaw held her steady, making her wait. Root's eyes snapped open, looking nearly angry at Shaw, who refused to be rushed.

"Sameen," she hissed out, gripping the side of Shaw's neck to force the other woman's eyes on hers. "You better fuck me before I lose patience and do it myself."

Shaw smirked, lifting one eyebrow in challenge, but gave in to her demands, pushing deeply while Root moaned her appreciation. She met Shaw's thrusts eagerly, pushing her hips down and taking everything Shaw was giving. On the next thrust, Shaw rubbed her palm over Root's straining clit, making her gasp and wrap her arms around Shaw tightly.

Root's fingers dug into Shaw's shoulders, desperately clinging to her as she hovered in that final moment, in between. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and with one final stroke, she came undone in Shaw's hands. Her nails raked down Shaw's back, drawing blood, but they were too caught up to notice or care.

Root was a sweaty, shaking mess, and she knew she'd left a tell-tale wet spot on the bed below her, evidence of Shaw's effect on her. Judging by the other woman's smirk, she didn't mind one bit. Root decided in that moment it was time to wipe that smirk off her smug face. She reared up unexpectedly, catching Shaw off guard as she spun them, pushing her down into the mattress.

Root realized she'd made a mistake as soon as moved. Shaw was instantly tense, gritting her teeth and looking away from her.

"Not a bottom, huh?" Root said, trying to put her at ease. "Don't worry babe, I can work with that." She reversed their positions again, placing a reassuring hand on Sameen's hip.

"It's just..." Shaw trailed off.

"I get it. You don't have to explain." Root kissed her, gently, at the corner of her mouth. "I want you to be comfortable. C'mere." Root ran her hands up and down Shaw's back, soothing the wounds she'd made earlier.

This was starting to get a little too domestic for Shaw. 'Now might be a good time to end this,' she thought. As if she could read her mind, Root moved her hands to Shaw's ass, gripping her tightly.

"Sit up."Root commanded. "Now scoot forward." Shaw narrowed her eyes at first, not understanding what Root was getting at, but when she was hovering above Root's eager tongue, she decided she liked where this was heading.

She moaned and nearly pulled away at the first touch. Root grabbed her thighs and held her in place, impatiently exploring her with one long lick. Sameen relaxed into the feeling, rolling her hips as Root's tongue worked its magic on her needy clit.

Her legs were threatening to give out from Root's ministrations, so she reached a shaking hand out to steady herself on the wall behind the headboard.

As good as it was feeling, she wanted more. Her free hand threaded through Root's hair, tugging Root closer to her.

"Root," she moaned under her breath.

"Mmm?" Root mumbled back, her voice muffled against Shaw's skin. She looked up from between Shaw's legs at the beauty above her. Shaw was biting her lip, face pinched tight. Root took her wordless cue and moved one hand from Sameen's thigh, touching her, feeling how wet and ready she was, then entering her in one quick stroke.

Shaw cried out then, tightening around Root's fingers. The hacker never stopped, just kept moving, giving Shaw everything she hadn't even realized she was missing. Her hips were gyrating wildly, chasing the spectacular feeling she was getting from Root. When her lips pursed, wrapped around Shaw's clit, and sucked it roughly, the dark beauty screamed out Root's name and came undone with a loud groan. Root's fingers slipped out of her when she let herself collapse next to the now smirking woman. It was only due to her extreme fatigue that she didn't fight off Root's arm around her, the kisses pressed into her hair and against her cheek. She couldn't make out the words Root was whispering in her ear, but found she didn't care much. It was a soothing balm to her after these months in Samaritan's captivity.

"That didn't suck." Shaw said finally, after they'd both relaxed for several minutes.

"Of course not. Did you think it would?" Root asked in mock indignation.

Shaw smirked. If there was one thing she truly enjoyed, it was riling Root up. She refused to think about why that brought her such joy. Instead, her thoughts were elsewhere. Namely, on their conversation from earlier.

"I don't know..." Shaw spoke suddenly, breaking the silence that had settled over them in the aftermath.

"Don't know what, sweetie?" Root asked her, turning her head slightly to look at Sameen, who wasn't making eye contact.

"I don't know why I couldn't kill you. It's what I'm made for. I had no problem killing the rest of our team. Or complete strangers. Or anyone."

"I think you do know why, Sameen. I'm just not sure you're ready to admit it to yourself yet," Root said, wrapping her hand around Shaw's and intertwining their fingers. "That's ok," she continued. "It's enough for me that it's there, even if you never find the words for it. Even if you never think about it again."

Shaw made a low sound of displeasure in her throat.

"I should probably warn you that I'll likely express those pesky feelings. The ones I have for you. Probably make you really uncomfortable. I'll try to hold off for now, though. But no promises for the future."

"The future?" Shaw queried, once she was finished. Root nodded.

"Yes, the future. It's what comes after we've defeated Samaritan. I have some thoughts about it."

"I haven't thought about after at all," Shaw said, yawning slightly.

"I picture a nice, modern loft, plenty of storage for an armory. A weight room, with a heavy bag for you. A sweet set-up, hard-line connected to Her, state of the art, with a nice ergonomic chair for me. And a cozy queen, with a fluffy comforter. A dog bed for Bear right next to it."

Shaw blinked, picturing the scene. It didn't sound terrible to her, not at all. "There better be steak on the flat top, and beer in the fridge," she said, just to avoid saying what came to mind first.

"Of course. Complete with plenty of sex. Somewhere to come back to when we aren't running about, saving the numbers and the world," Root continued. "Somewhere like... home."

"Haven't had one of those in a long time," Shaw said, after a beat.

"Me neither," Root whispered. "Might be nice to give stability a try."

"We'll probably end up killing each other," Shaw said honestly.

"My safeword is 'equilibrium'. I'll use it if it anything we get up to gets to be too much for me," Root promised.

Shaw chuckled, and shook her head.

"Oh sweetie, that wasn't a joke." Root smirked. Shaw turned to her and caught it. "Limits are important."

"Root," Shaw said. "Go to sleep. We can talk about your 'limits' in the morning." She stretched out enough to kiss the tall woman one final time before she relaxed, and let sleep take her. Root was up for much longer, watching the steady rise and fall of Sameen's breathing, before she eventually succumbed to the lure of sleep as well.


End file.
